Coffee Talk
by Mercutio
Summary: Clark/Lex. In which they talk, and make plans to see each other again.


SUMMARY: Smallville, Clark/Lex. Mild swearing. In which they talk,  
and make plans to see each other again.

NOTE: After seeing Nicodemus, it became clear that Clark's dad does have a shotgun. For the purposes of this story, he doesn't. Work with me, people.

ARCHIVE: Please. As often as possible, and wherever you like.

Coffee Talk, by Mercutio ()

"Sometimes I don't think I even like Lana."

Lex looked up sharply at that. Not that he ever *wanted* to look away from Clark, precisely. It was just that the staring got a little obvious sometimes for a small town in the heartland. At least they had a place like the Talon in Smallville, even if he'd practically had to create it himself. Some pretense at hipness,  
amid the hickness and exaggerated morality. "Come again?"

Clark looked guilty, like he'd confessed to a desire to kill someone rather than simply not liking them. "Sometimes... well..."

"You have to explain that, Clark. You know that, don't you?"

"Once... I called her."

Lex looked at him.

"About homework!" Clark said quickly.

"Right."

"And, well... we were talking and she said she had to get something. So I sat there on the phone and waited for her. For about half an hour. Until her aunt picked up the phone and told me she'd gone out. With Whitney."

Lex was caught between the urge to laugh and to string Lana up. "That... was rather rude of her. Did she have an explanation?"

"Er..."

"You *did* ask for an explanation, didn't you?"

Clark flushed. "Well, no. I couldn't... it was too embarrassing."

It was on the tip of Lex's tongue to ask, 'And you like her, why,  
but as the question was rhetorical and largely aimed at tearing down an icon Clark still worshipped, he didn't. "I'm sorry she did that to you, Clark."

"You don't have to apologize, Lex. It's not your fault."

"Someone certainly should. Why not me? You won't take a truck -  
but you will take an apology, right?"

Totally unfair leverage on his part, and something Lex planned to get mileage out of for... well, as long as he knew Clark, however long that might be.

Clark smiled at him. "All right. But I know you wouldn't do something like that, Lex."

He wouldn't, not to Clark, but... "How do you know that?"

A hand reached out and tapped his cell, lying on the table. "Because you always take your phone with you." Clark laughed. "You might hang up on me, but you wouldn't walk out without it."

"I wouldn't hang up on you. But you're wrong about me not leaving it. Remember how we first met? I got a call right before the accident happened, and dropped the phone -- they may have gotten the Porsche out of the river, but they never did find the phone."

"That doesn't count."

"Maybe Lana was rescuing Whitney from giant slime-eating mutant guinea pigs," Lex said, deadpan. "You never asked. Perhaps she had a good excuse."

Clark stared at him for a moment, then said, equally solemn,  
"Couldn't have been that. No one said anything about their giant mutant guinea pigs getting food poisoning."

"But people *do* own giant mutant guinea pigs in Smallville?"

"Probably. Is it any weirder than a guy who can electrocute people by touching them? Or shake things to pieces? Or flowers that cause people to lose their inhibitions?"

"Before I moved to Smallville, I thought I lived an exciting life. So much for the myth that small towns are dull places."

"Didn't you know? Small towns are even weirder than big cities. Inbreeding."

"And here I thought my largest worry would be an outraged father with a shotgun."

"Shotgun? You really are from the city. My dad uses a thirty aught six."

Lex looked blank.

"A rifle."

"Ah." Lex didn't see the difference. It was clear from Clark's expression that he both knew that and thought Lex was, well, rather backward for not understanding all there was to know about firearms. Lex sidestepped. "So I do have to worry about your father then. And here I'd thought I'd actually have to have done something first."

Clark's expression turned stormy. "According to my dad, you caused cancer, nuclear war, and male pattern baldness."

Lex didn't like that look on Clark's face, and tried to shift the tone of the conversation into something lighter. "At least he got one out of the three right."

The redness flushing the other man's countenance was only marginally better. "I shouldn't have mentioned baldness. Sorry."

He stiffened. He couldn't help it. He'd had years of psychotherapy and his father yelling at him, but still... "If you think I look like a freak, then say it."

Clark backed off for a moment, looking confused, then his eyes widened. "No, I... Lex, I didn't mean *that*--"

And it was upsetting to realize that his self-esteem wasn't as well-trained as he'd believed it was. Because it was obvious from his distress that Clark really hadn't meant it. "Never mind,  
Clark."

But, of course, Clark couldn't stop minding. It was, at other times, one of the things Lex liked best about him, that Clark *cared* so much, even when he shouldn't. Even about people like Lana, who didn't recognize an open heart, willing to be trod upon. Even about Lex.

"I like the way you look, Lex. It's... better than the way other people look. Like you're more real than they are. You... it's easier to see who you are. I think you must be pretty brave sometimes to be able to let people see you."

"I don't really have a choice about that," Lex said, responding to the last statement, the easiest to respond to. Storing up the other comments inside, where they were giving him far too much hope.

"It doesn't make it any easier."

"No." He was used to the stares now, and he knew that they were partly because he was a Luthor and only partly because he looked different, and he'd even learned to take pride in causing a reaction in people -- but fundamentally, Clark was right.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. You were making a joke; I knew that. I just... overreacted."

"Like I said..." Clark repeated, trailing off.

Lex just looked at him. He did that a lot, looked at Clark. Who,  
as with so many other things, let him do it without asking why.

Which meant one of two things. And Clark was entirely too fixated on Lana for it to be the first, despite his earlier comments.

So it had to be the second. Most people had to know why you did things. Some were worse than others about it, but most people wanted to know. Clark... didn't. *Oh, the secrets you must keep to seem so open and yet let so much go by unquestioned.*

Lex could feel -- had always felt -- something resonating between him and Clark. Part of it was, he thought, their exchanges of words. Not knowledge precisely. Little bits and pieces of each other, revealed like disengages and parries and ripostes. He liked the sport of it almost enough to forgo trying to win.

Almost. Clark looked away first, but Lex kept studying him. "You're not entirely unattractive yourself, Clark. If you weren't 15 and didn't have a father with a rifle, we could date."

He watched to see what the effect of *that* little comment would be. Got the predicted reddening. *Didn't* get the shock or flustered dismay.

Got a look up from under... *No, that isn't an eyelash flutter,  
Clark. Tell me that isn't an eyelash flutter.*

"Thought you knew, Lex. I'm 17."

Cognitive dissonance there for a moment with the eyelash thing, and Lex could almost feel his brain trying to reboot. "Yet you're a high school freshman, right? How many years did they hold you back?"

"Freshman, yeah. Just two. C'mon, you had to notice I'm a foot taller than Pete or Chloe."

"I ascribed it to healthy living. You got held back *two* years?" Clark's never *acted* all that stupid. Well, pointless rescuing of strangers and infatuation with Lana Lang aside.

"I might be 18. They don't really know. I'm adopted -- my birth parents... I guess you could say they abandoned me, and, well... I suppose mom and dad couldn't really start me in school when I was speaking a foreign language, so I started late."

That was more information than Lex had ever been previously offered on Clark. He would be suspicious, but he couldn't help reacting to what he'd heard. "Abandoned?"

Clark looked away again. "Yeah. I always knew I was adopted,  
but... they didn't... I didn't know about that part until this year. I just kinda assumed, y'know -- that there'd been an adoption agency, and all that."

"The Kents didn't tell you?" That raised Lex's opinion of them,  
although it was fairly high already. Jonathan Kent's suspicion of him was a mark in the man's favor, not against him. Not that Lex had ever done anything to him, or would -- but it proved the man was intelligent.

"No. They... I-- I'm sorry, Lex. I don't want to talk about it."

Lex reached across the table and touched Clark's arm. "It's all right. You don't have to. I have my own... personal house of horrors. I rather envy you your family."

"I wish..."

"What, Clark?"

Earnest eyes staring at him. "I wish mom and dad liked you more. I wish I could share them with you."

Lex remembered the way the Kents had hugged Clark after the hostage incident at the fertilizer plant. He wondered what it felt like,  
knowing your parents loved you and wanted you. Even if they weren't your real parents. Even if your real parents had abandoned you, like Clark's... and maybe Clark did understand, at least somewhat, what it was like to be Lex.

Too much honest emotion for the moment. Lex took refuge in humor and drudged up a wry smile. "Somehow, I think your father would be less than enthusiastic about welcoming a Luthor into the family."

"Well, if we're dating, he's going to have to, won't he?" Clark grinned, obviously confident that he'd won this exchange. Then added, as Lex stared at him, "Er, that was a joke, Lex. You can laugh now."

Lex was glad that he didn't actually drink the coffee at the Talon because otherwise he would probably have choked just now. Damn. Clark was getting good at the verbal fencing. Such a sally demanded an appropriate response. Lex searched and found one. "I'm glad that you're only a freshman then. I won't have to take you to the prom."

"You're ashamed to be seen with me in public. I get it."

Didn't Clark have any idea how *wrong* this conversation was? Not that Lex wasn't enjoying it, because he was. And he wasn't about to put a stop to it. But surely, Clark had to have some idea that there was more going on here than just normal kidding between two buddies hanging out. Didn't he?

"I'm here with you, aren't I?" Lex gestured at the Talon.

"But this isn't a date. No risk involved."

"Did you want it to be?" No, those words did not leave his mouth,  
not in that genuinely questioning tone of voice that revealed entirely too much. Lex covered it immediately with sarcasm. "You should have said something. I could have brought you an orchid from the greenhouse for a corsage."

"No flowers, thanks." Clark shuddered. "I don't think I'm ever going to look at a flower the same way again after that Nicodemus thing."

"I'm glad you didn't get infected." And he was. It was bad enough watching Clark want to chase Lana. Watching him actually doing it could only be worse. Even if some part of him wanted Clark to actually get Lana and find out from being with her how unsatisfactory such a relationship would be, it would still be painful to witness.

"Yeah. It was bad enough watching my dad." Clark abruptly switched conversational tangents. "Hey, Lex, what would you do if you could do anything?"

"Clark, I *can* do anything. And I choose to sit here with you and not-drink very bad coffee. What does that tell you?"

"That you're a coffee snob?"

Lex resisted the urge to drop his head into his hands and mutter. Clark could be so very very clueless. Which was just as well,  
really, because if Clark had any idea why Lex liked being with him,  
the other man would run for the hills, and then Lex wouldn't have even as little of Clark as he did now. "It has nothing to do with the coffee, Clark."

"Good, 'cause I'm pretty sure that's supposed to be espresso or something like that, not real coffee. Now, my mom, she makes good coffee."

"I'll be sure to try it, should I ever get the chance."

"You could come over, sometime. For dinner. You're always coming over when something's wrong -- maybe my dad would have an easier time getting used to you if you were there when everything was okay."

"I think the only way your father wants to get used to me is by using me for target practice."

"My dad's not going to shoot you."

"Right. Because we're dating. And parents never get protective of their offspring when they start dating." *Jesus, Clark. Catch a clue. This is impossible. And even if it weren't... do you have any idea how difficult it is to just sit here and _banter_ with you about it like it isn't exactly what I want most?*

"So Friday night would be good for you, then?"

Non sequitur there. Lex quickly reviewed what had just been said,  
and concluded that, aside from the possibility of some Smallville-centric phenomena having just occurred, he hadn't missed any of the conversation. "For a date?"

Clark's forehead wrinkled. "No... well, sorta..." He smiled suddenly. "I guess you could call it that. I can come pick you up if you want. But no corsage, okay? Unless you want to bring something for my mom. She likes flowers."

Lex got the feeling that Clark had won the conversation, and possibly the war. Clark had practically gotten Lex to admit that he wanted him, without ever making an equivalent admission himself. But he still had to ask. "And where are you taking me on this outing?"

"Chez Kent. An exclusive establishment located in the bucolic Smallville countryside..." Clark lost it and started laughing. "You should see the look on your face! I already asked mom if it would be okay if I invited you over. She kinda likes you already. It's just dad who... has issues, I guess you'd say."

"You never cease to surprise me, Clark. Friday it is." Lex hesitated a moment, then said to hell with it, and leaned forward a little, lowering his voice. "Just remember, I don't put out on the first date."

And Clark's genuinely amused laughter made the risk of saying something so potentially risky worth it. Even if Lex still didn't know whether Clark realized how little he meant it.

-the end- 


End file.
